


i need you now but i don't know you yet

by iamalystark



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Derek Morgan Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt Derek Morgan, Hurt Spencer Reid, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Rape/Non-con, Pining Derek Morgan, Pining Spencer, Romantic Soulmates, Sad Derek, Sad Spencer Reid, Season/Series 05 Spoilers, Soulmates, Spencer Reid Angst, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug, Spencer Reid Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:48:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29227245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamalystark/pseuds/iamalystark
Summary: It goes like this; Spencer hasn't spoken to his soulmate since he was ten, didn't know their gender or their name or a single thing about them. Spencer's soulmate doesn't want him, and that's okay.(Or, the moreid soulmate au we all need.)
Relationships: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid
Comments: 27
Kudos: 258





	i need you now but i don't know you yet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spencers-renaissance (tomlinsoul)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomlinsoul/gifts).



> heed the tags my lovelies<3 the non-con one is for non-graphic mentions of carl buford
> 
> title from IDK you yet by Alexander 23

It goes like this; Spencer hasn't spoken to his soulmate since he was ten, didn't know their gender or their name or a single thing about them. Spencer's soulmate doesn't want him, and that's okay. 

(He tells himself it is, anyway, but that doesn't stop him from glancing down at his arms everyday in hopes for a simple hi scrawled.)

He was three the first time he tried talking to them, taking one of his dad's pens and pushing up his too big sleeve to reveal his pale arm, and he wrote down one little word.

 _Hi_.

For hours he sat there, watching, waiting for a response that wouldn't come, and then he thought, he must be older. Maybe his soulmate wasn't born yet. Maybe they were too little to read or write. (He didn't know that his soulmate had already written to him before, and he'd been too young to see it.)

So for the next few years, he scrawled down every interesting fact that came to his mind, asked random questions, told them how excited he was to meet them someday. 

He never got a response. 

Not until he was eight and writing down everything he could think off because Mom and Dad were fighting again, and the words he was in the process of writing crossed themselves out, a sudden line through them. 

Just like the first thing he ever wrote, one word appeared on his skin.

 _STOP_.

Spencer stopped writing, clenching his pen between small fingers, and he stared. 

He had a soulmate. All along, he'd had a soulmate. And they didn't want him.

 _I'm sorry_ , Spencer wrote, and then he put down his pen, washed his arm, and vowed to leave them alone. How could he have thought someone would want a freak like him anyways?

(Two years later he is ten, his father is leaving and after he calms his mother, he retreats to his room, writes, _Are you there?_ Then crosses it out multiple times. _I'm sorry_ , he writes again, but crosses that out too.

 _Don't talk to me again,_ his soulmate writes hours later. He doesn't.)

* * *

It goes like this; Derek hasn't spoken to his soulmate since he was eighteen and leaving Chicago. He didn't know their gender or their name or a single thing about them. He doesn't want a soulmate, and that's okay.

(He tells himself it is, but that doesn't stop him from hoping the soulmate he pushed away would say hi one more time.)

He was five the first time he tried talking to them. He wrote, _Hi my nam is Derek_ , and he didn't get a response. His parents told him that his soulmate could be younger than him, they could have not been born yet, or maybe they couldn't read or write yet. 

Every few months, he wrote anyway. 

_Hi my nam is Derek my faverit colr is green and I'm five_

_Hi my name is Derek my favrite color is green and I'm six._

_Hi I'm Derek my favorite color is blue now but I'm still six._

_Hi, I'm Derek. Are you a girl or boy?_

_Hey, I'm Derek. I'm eight._

_Hey, I'm Derek._

_(Dad's not breathing help please help help he's not breathing please)_

After his dad, he stopped writing. He was ten and it was clear his soulmate was never going to write a response. 

A year later, when he was crying himself to sleep, Buford's touch never leaving his mind, he spotted a mark on his arm. 

_Hi._

Derek stared at it for a while, rubbed his thumb over it until it began to bruise, trying to figure out if it was really there. And when he realized it was, he turned to his other side and closed his eyes. He'd seen what happened to soulmates.

(A cop bringing him home, his face stained with tears and torso covered in blood, his mom already crying because the small notes on her arm had abruptly disappeared.)

The words keep coming, almost every day. Random facts, things nobody had a reason to know, things that were stupid and didn't matter. He let them go on anyways because when Carl's hands were on him, all he could focus on was, _Did you know there are 1107 different species of birds in North America?_

And then he is sixteen and his mom is demanding what's wrong and he tells her it's nothing, and his soulmate is talking about fucking insects, so grabs a pen and drags it through the words as harshly as he can. He writes the first thing since he was ten.

 _STOP_.

He couldn't deal with it then, not right then.

 _I'm sorry_ , his soulmate wrote, and then the words disappeared completely. 

He felt guilty when the next day they didn't come at all, and then the next week and the next year. 

(Then he is eighteen, he's finally getting out, away from Buford, away from the place his father died, and his soulmate writes, _Are you there?_ It gets crossed out, along with the following, _I'm sorry_. 

Later, he will get out a pen and he will tell them, _Don't talk to me again,_ and he will regret it, but it will also be freeing.)

* * *

When Spencer is 24, he meets Derek Morgan and the rest of the BAU, and for the first time in a very long time, he has a family. He has people that he cares about and that care about him, and they don't ask him about the fact that words never appear on his skin and he never takes a minute to write something himself. 

When Derek is 32, he meets Spencer Reid, and for the first time in a very long time, he can look at someone else without wondering if they're his soulmate, because when he looks at him, he doesn't care. All he sees is him, and the fact that he doesn't ask about the lack of words or drawings on his skin.

* * *

After long cases, Spencer sits in his apartment alone, and he uncaps a pen, and he holds it to his skin, but he never writes. He never says hi, he never asks if they're even still alive. He doesn't dare even draw, too afraid that he'll see _STOP_ again or _Don't talk to me_ again.

He almost writes after he kills Dowd. That night, he thinks back on Gideon's words, and he gets so close to reaching out. 

He doesn't. 

* * *

After Georgia, while he spends weeks crying and using dilaudid and wishing his team will help him, he gets high in his bathroom and hastily writes down, _Do you even care? Would you even care if I died_? And then he throws up and scrubs at the words until his skin is raw and red, and a response doesn't come. 

He gets clean, forgets about his soulmate again, gets closer to his teammates, and moves on.

* * *

Morgan is with the team when the words appear, everybody but Reid who still hasn't come back to work yet, having only been rescued from Hankel days before. He always wears short sleeves, so it's no surprise he's wearing one now, and he doesn't even notice, not till JJ points it out.

"Morgan," she says, her voice soft, and he follows her gaze to wrist. 

_Do you even care? Would you even care if I died?_

His throat feels tight at that, and he swallows, putting his arms under the table. The tension in the room is thick, but nobody mentions it.

Reid comes back soon after, and he doesn't even think to wonder if it's him.

* * *

It's after he gets shot in the knee and Hotch loses Haley that he finally writes to his soulmate again, and for once, he doesn't get a hostile response. For once, his soulmate writes back to him, and they have an actual conversation. 

_Are you even alive?_ Spencer writes one day while they're on a case, sitting on his hotel room's bed. 

He didn't expect a response, and if there was one, he certainly didn't expect them to say, _Yeah_.

For a few minutes, he just stares. He watches the four letters and waits for them to dissapear every time he blinks, waits to find out he's just imagining it.

But it stays. The word stays. So he writes another thing.

_Is it something I did? The reason you hate me?_

Immediately, a vaguely familiar scrawl begins to form on his arm, making him flinch. Wherever they were, his soulmate must have been watching their arm, waiting for him to respond. 

_I don't hate you._

Spencer swallows. Clears his throat. He's confused, and then he's mad.

_Then why? Why don't you want to talk to me? Why don't you want a soulmate? Why did you let me talk for so long and then just tell me to stop? Why? And why listen now?_

It's only once a stab of pain flashes up his arm does he stop, realizing that he'd began to press the pen into his arm hard, and had almost broken the skin.

_It's a long story, and I'm not sure you'll even care with how I've treated you._

Reid doesn't know how to respond to that at first, frowning down at the words on his arm and thinking back on how much he'd hoped and begged for a conversation like this when he was younger. And then he realizes he never stopped hoping for it, and he does care.

 _I do care. I don't think I ever stopped,_ he writes, and then, seeing how covered his arm is, he cleans it off and waits for another response.

_I didn't have the greatest childhood. I know it doesn't excuse how I treated you, and I can't take back all those years of no contact, but if you want to start over, I'm willing to try._

Tears burn at the genius' eyes, welling up and falling down his cheeks, and he wants so badly to say yes, to just forget about the past and have this bond, this sacred bond that everyone has. He can't, though. Not yet. Instead, he writes, _Why? Why now?_

For a few minutes, he doesn't get a response, and his heart rate quickens at the thought that he'd driven them off, but finally, more words appear. 

_I almost lost some people close to me recently, and it made me realize that I don't want to lose them, and I don't want to lose you either._

Spencer doesn't move, doesn't write, doesn't even breathe. 

_Though, I probably already lost you, didn't I?_

Finally exhaling through his nose, Reid shakily brings his pen back to his skin. 

_No, you didn't._

* * *

Spencer wakes the next morning to find his arm still covered in pen, but no other response left. He's thankful they didn't write something while he was asleep, but he's also slightly disappointed to not see anything else. 

He cleans his arm off, and after a few moment's hesitation, writes, _Good morning :)._

The young doctor busies himself with getting ready after that, taming his tangled hair and dressing in something other than his sleep clothes. (Reid settles on a long sleeved shirt today, not wanting his teammates to see if he gets a response from his soulmate.)

Just before he leaves the hotel room to meet up with the team back at the station, he checks his arm one more time. 

Greeting him is, _Morning_.

It's one word, but it makes Spencer smile larger than he thinks he ever has.

* * *

He's surprised, honestly, with how long it takes him to figure it out. 

They talk for weeks, saying good morning and good night, telling themselves a little bit about each other, beginning to earn back the trust that had been broken for so long. 

Spencer even finally knew that his soulmate was a man, but they'd yet to exchange names or addresses.

But still, he should have known. 

He should have _known_ because while he starts wearing long sleeves and looking at his arm every second he's not busy, someone else does the exact same thing. 

He finds out purely on accident, having shuffled into the conference room late to find the team already there, talking about the newest case, and drops down into the spot next to Derek on instinct. 

"Nice of you to finally arrive," Hotch quips, raising a brow as if to silently ask if everything was alright. Reid just nods slightly, blushing, and JJ continues explaining the case to them. Four victims so far, middle aged brunette women with working class jobs. He would have kept laying attention, would have gotten more details, had he not taken a glance at his friend. 

Morgan's sleeve had ridden up, something that normally wouldn't matter, if it weren't for the writing he could see there. On Morgan's wrist was, _Good morning! I hope your day goes okay._

It isn't the words that made him pause, not even the spot they were in. No, it was the fact that it wasn't Derek's handwriting he was seeing. It was his own. 

Derek Morgan was his soulmate. 

Derek _fucking_ Morgan was his soulmate.

Suddenly, it makes sense. Everything clicks into place. The rough childhood his soulmate had spoken of. Morgan's father. Carl Buford. The timeline matches up, _everything_ matches up. The vaguely familiar handwriting he couldn't place. 

"Oh my God," Spencer whispers, purely on accident, and JJ cuts herself off. 

They're all looking at him, and then where his eyes have locked onto. Derek glances up and sees that they're all looking at his wrist, and he pushes his sleeve down, shoving his arm under the table. 

"What?" The man asks, brows furrowing. 

Reid's throat suddenly feels impossibly dry, his eyes flicking up to meet Derek's before he looks back down.

"Reid? Are you okay?" Hotch asks what all of them are thinking. 

Spencer shakily brings his hand to his own wrist, pushing his sleeve up to reveal the same words that they'd all just seen on Morgan. 

The silence in the room is suddenly deafening. Reid leaves before he can break down in front of them.

* * *

Morgan finds him in the men's bathroom, sitting on the floor in the farthest stall with his knees hugged tight to his chest and his hair blocking the view of his face. 

"Kid. . ."

"What do you want, Morgan?" Reid mumbles, hating how obvious it is that he's been crying. His voice is trembling and thick with tears, and Derek knows it.

"I," he sighs, standing awkwardly at the stall door. "Reid, you know what I want."

"No, I don't." Spencer looks up at him, revealing his tear stained cheeks and his anger filled face. "I haven't known what you want my whole life."

Morgan opens his mouth to respond, a pang of hurt flashing through him, but Reid beats him to it. "Since I was a kid, you've only told me to leave you alone. You've told me to stop talking to you, and then suddenly one day you just turn it around." He scoffs, shaking his head and dropping his gaze back to the ground.

"Reid, Spencer, you told me you were willing to start over. I've apologized for how I-"

"That was before it was you!"

Derek's mouth snaps closed, his eyes widening. He swallows, staring down at the younger man, who begins to feel small sitting on the ground. 

Shakily, Reid climbs to his feet, his arms wrapped around himself. 

"What-What do you mean?"

"I mean, I was willing to start over when I didn't know it was you. I was willing to forget about the lifetime of hurt when it was someone I didn't know, someone I didn't already love."

When they both realize what he said, it's like the air leaves the room, their eyes widening and breaths stuttering. "Reid. . ."

"I know, okay? I _know_ it's stupid, I know it doesn't make sense. I know I should've been waiting for my soulmate, but-"

"But I am your soulmate, Spencer. I'm your soulmate and you're mine, and I never wanted you to be, but-"

Reid cuts him off with a self-depreciative laugh, tears finally dripping from his eyes. "I know I'm not soulmate material, I know I'm not who you want. I just-I just want to know why? Why aren't I good enough? _What did I do?_ "

Derek reaches forward before he can stop himself, grasping Spencer's wrists tightly. "You are. You are good enough. You're so much more than good enough, Pretty boy," he tells him, and when the doctor searches his eyes, all he sees is sincerity. 

"You--You said yourself that you wish I wasn't your soulmate. What am I supposed to take from that? I know that statistically, twenty-six percent of the population ignore their soulmates in favor of choosing who to love, I know I'm not perfect, I'm nowhere near perfect--"

Morgan puts his hand over Reid's mouth, stopping his gasping, desperate words, and then moves it to grip his jaw. 

"Spencer, I didn't want you to be my soulmate, because I didn't want to love someone who could never love me back, someone who I've only ever hurt. I didn't want to hurt you, and I didn't want to hurt my soulmate, but it turns out it was you I was hurting all along." When he stops talking, Reid's lips are parted in shock, his eyes wide as his tears continue to fall. 

"Love? You love me?"

"Spencer Reid, I have loved you since you wrote hi on my arm, and then I loved you all over again before I even knew that you're my soulmate," Derek whispers, refusing to let his own tears fall.

Sniffling, the genius stares up into his soulmate's eyes. "I love you too, Morgan. I love you."

When he doesn't pull out of his touch, Derek lurches forward, clashing his lips with Spencer's, and he feels the smaller man snaking his arms around his neck. 

They kiss until they can't breathe, and then they keep kissing. Morgan can feel Reid's tears against his own face, and he hates himself for making them appear. 

They pull apart a few seconds later, still staring at each other, still tangled in each other's arms, and when Spencer really thinks about the man holding him, the man he's loved since he could process soulmates, he can't imagine a life after this without him. 

"Don't leave," he whispers despite himself, and Derek's hold on him tightens. 

"Never, Pretty boy. You're stuck with me."

In all his life, Spencer has never heard more beautiful words. 

Later, they will leave the bathroom and Garcia will squeal in happiness when she sees their intertwined hands, and Emily will team up with Rossi to tease them, and Hotch will just give them that small smile that shows how happy he is for them without saying anything, but for now, they just stand there, arms not leaving each other, and they are happy.

_"And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music."_

_Friedrich Nietzsche._

**Author's Note:**

> spencers-renaissance, hand over your second born :)


End file.
